


We Fell Like Giants

by pensivestranger237



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Homosexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensivestranger237/pseuds/pensivestranger237
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is human, as are all the other angels that were cast out of heaven. He doesn't know the first thing about being human, however Dean is there to guide him. Some angst and fluff, not to mention guilt-ridden/broken Cas and Dean to help glue his fallen angel back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall

Cas was sitting alone, in a dark part of the forest, the sounds of small animals scurrying in the dark. He had been here for hours, gently thrumming his fingers through the bristling patches of pine needles.

It had been hours since he’d watched all of his sisters and brothers fall. But he could still hear their anguished cries, resonating in his head as they fell, their grace ripped out as they plummeted. The smell of charred feathers was heavy in the air, resembling that of tar or exhaust fumes.

_What have I done?_

The question had pent itself up, filtering in and out of his mind, but it was now more of a statement than an inquiry. Cas had once again, ‘screwed up’. Long after the last trail of light had left the night sky, did he finally dare to move, dare to even think of what had happened.

He simply sat there, a weird bristling sensation came over, as his skin slowly lost its’ warmth.

“I’m cold.” His husky voice, jarring him out of his stupor, but not before he could feel everything that had just happened. He supposed this was what humans called “in shock” but it felt like more than a simple transference of electrical impulses. This feeling was awash with a mind-numbing sensation, a head rush so intense, he felt like the ground would swallow him if he weren’t already sitting.

He swallowed hard, but couldn’t find his legs, or even the strength to stand. He felt absolutely and utterly weak.

The angel chatter that usually ran amuck within his head was silent, he was alone with his own thoughts. Where as before, even if Dean and Sam had been gone, he wasn’t alone, not entirely. Cas always had a strong sense of connection to his other brothers and sisters, even if they were also indifferent to him, he at least had their presence.

Now there was nothing, a void that was voiceless and empty, forcing him to look into oblivion itself.

He started to shake.

Cas rolled up into a ball, tucking his arms into the nook between his chest and thighs because it seemed the right thing to do. He closed his eyes and bit hard on his lip, silently voicing everything he felt. This was how he prayed, but this time there was no one to hear his cries. There was no one to hear Cas fall.  
…

Cas awoke to a rather violent shaking and a dizzy almost trance-like feeling sank into his limbs.

“Cas! Damn it, Cas! Get up!”

He cracked one eye open to see Dean, hunched over him, his hands locked around Cas’ wrists. He tried to speak, but he felt like he was adrift in a sea that only made him move slower, his thoughts languidly rolling in.

When Cas didn’t reply, Dean simply threw his wrists to the side, pulling him into a cradling position and picked him up. Cas’s head lolled to the side, resting on Dean’s firm chest. He didn’t realize that he was freezing until he could feel Dean’s own warmth, soaking through his heavy trench coat.

Looking up he managed to slur a line to Dean.

“Dean, thurr al gun, mm n’cant hear em, nee more.”

“Cas, you’re freezing. What the hell were you doing out here?”

“Can’t hear em, mm lone,” he croaked.

“Cas, just shut up til we get to the car,” Dean replied, stepping faster as he trekked through the forest.

Venturing to open his eyes, Cas could see that it was early in the morning, a slight mist coiled around the edges of the trees.

He couldn’t feel his legs, or his hands and face. This should have alarmed him more than it did, but he didn’t care. Caring was dangerous. Caring had led to heaven’s gates being shut and all the angels cast out. Caring had lost him Dean’s trust. Caring left Cas always a bit more empty, always a piece further taken.

A few minutes passed, as Dean huffed through the forest, grunting slightly and readjusting Cas when he slipped down a bit. He crashed through the under brush and the sound of concrete underfoot led Cas to believe they were at a road.

Dean managed to somehow unlatch the car door, squeaking as it swung outward. Cas felt the familiar leather of the Impala outlining his back and legs as Dean lowered him in swiftly, slamming the door shut.

The drivers’ side door wrenched open and the Impala purred to life, Dean throwing the heater on to full power.

They were flying down the highway after a minute and Cas could feel heat retrace its way to his face, a bitter painful nipping following.  
Dean was brooding, his gaze glancing towards Cas every now and then before he turned his eyes back to the road, knuckles grinding into the steering wheel.

“Well, care to explain what the hell happened tonight?” Dean snapped at Cas.

Cas didn’t respond, he simply turned his body towards the window, resting his head on the glass as a blur of trees flew past.

Dean huffed a scoff, before gunning the Impala to speed well over the limit.

They pulled into the bunker soon after, Dean throwing the car into park before turning his gaze on Cas.

He opened his mouth but he couldn’t seem to verbalize what he was feeling. Instead, he just closed his mouth, jaw tightening before he opened the car and left Cas sitting in the Impala.

An hour or two passed as Cas sat there, swiftly growing colder once again before Dean stormed out. He rapped at the window, waiting a moment before flinging the door open and grabbed Cas by the arm.

Cas simply followed, his legs suitably better as he staggered around before walking out the stiffness. Dean pulled out the key used for the bunker, a iron-wrought object encased in a small golden box. He led Cas to a room down a corridor before throwing him down on the bed, reaching out to blanket him in the brown wooly blanket that rested on it.

Cas let out a shivered breath, before settling into the slowly warming bed. Dean left soon after, shutting the door behind him and settling a darkness on the room. Cas felt extremely weary, before he figured that he was sleepy. Not wanting to fight the heavy lidded feeling on his eyes, he mimicked Dean’s own actions that he had observed many times and closed his eyes. Sleep overtook him and he rode it out on a wave that made him feel hollow, the cracks in his new found soul shining through.


	2. Rebirth

 

Cas awoke a day later.

He opened his eyes to a dark room, a stiff feeling at the crook of his neck, the rest of his body aching. Cas’ vision felt worse, he wasn’t able to distinguish his surroundings in the dark. Panicked, he pushed a hand to his chest, his heart beating fast and wet. A tumultuous mixture of sensations and peculiar bodily responses took hold of him, wrapping him in a sea of confusion. Cas managed to sift through a lot of the new characteristics that came with his humanity, but he was still unsure. He tasted a bitter sensation, recoiling and swarming in his stomach. Thinking to Dean’s own reactions he took these new feelings and categorized them as regretful, guilty, mistook in his surroundings. Cas was utterly lost and altogether too…human.

The events of last night hit him hard, the bright lights of each angels slowly fading, falling to Earth. A harsh sinking feeling grew in him, as he felt his grace burned away, his vessel molding completely to his soul, trapping him inside. The undeniable heaviness of life, pure humanity, seeping into his bones as Cas was pushed to the edge.

He swallowed hard.

Cas wanted nothing more than to drift off again and let this ‘sleep’ take him once more.  It was new to him, he’d never in all of his existence, imagined such a distant place in one’s head, a place to let all imagination take wind. Cas had many times been through Dean’s dreams while he was sleeping, his eyelids softly fluttering as Cas sank into his consciousness, tying himself to Dean in a way that felt intimate.

He hadn’t dreamed, but this was not surprising. Cas’ whole existence had to been to serve his Father, putting his entire essence into the Garrison, following orders. Now that he had free reign, his mind was unaware of what to do and in the end he came up blank. This was a bit of a disappointment.

Cas rolled to the side, placing his hand palm down, softly trailing his fingers through the rumpled sheets when a muted pang hit his side. It was small at first, but grew in persistence, a heated twisting and churning rising from deep within 

The sensation grew uncomfortable, causing Cas to sit up quickly. The pain worsened as Cas staggered to stand up, tumbling down onto the hard concrete pulling the blanket off the bed. He tried to call out, but his throat constricted, the sensations within him burning and snuffing any word or thought he might’ve had. Heat pulsed and suddenly Cas’ mind was taken over by a long trail of images, flashing harshly behind his eyes. The muted foggy images began to flow, picking up in speed, coming distinct, clearer. 

He could see Jimmy Novak, clearly, felt him clawing his way out of his body. 

Cas had always felt Jimmy in the back of his mind, a simple presence that only made itself known in times of danger or when Amelia was involved. But this was different; his presence was now prevalent, overtaking Cas completely.

Jimmy Novak was dying inside of him.

Fumbling around in the dark, he grappled the loose covers of the blanket, clinging them to him as he helplessly tried to stop the onslaught of emotions and memories that were now flooding through his system. Pushing a fistful of the blanket to his mouth, Cas tried to stop the low-throated cry that escaped but he was too late. A mournful wail exuded into the black room before Cas managed to smother it out. He bit hard on his tongue, the blood offering a small buffer as his body was overtaken. These teeth-chattering pinpoints of pain battered him from within, threatening to tear the seams of his vessel/body apart.

The sound of heavy steps came pounding down the hallway as Dean thrust the door open without hesitation.

“Cas!?” Dean held a knife in one hand, hovering protectively over his chest as he slowly walked towards the bed.

Cas was unable to speak; his body writhing and twisting as he fought to gain control over the endless waves of sensations that threw him deeper.

He managed to gasp out, before a bright flash of light filtered from within him, seeping out of his mouth with a rushed hiss. The blue and violet light soon grew hazy and began to hover precariously over Cas before it shot upward, dissolving into the ceiling 

Cas crumpled inwards, the memories and emotions were now gone, leaving him raw and undertook. Feebly reaching towards the end of the bed, Dean closed the space between them and checked Cas for any damage. When he was certain Cas was fine, he stood up and walked around, outlining his jaw with his forefinger and thumb. 

“What, the hell?” Dean eloquently spat out.

 Cas didn’t have the energy to answer. He lay there battered and shaken from having Jimmy’s soul tugged out of him. Placing a sweat drenched hand to the floor he pushed himself up, managing to rest his weight onto his hip.

Discerning the string of events, Cas managed to pull together a swift conclusion. 

He’d seen a case of multiple demons possessing a single body. The effects were terrible, the body had shut down and started to decay, but not before the demonic entities had forcefully cut out the soul of the young girl, her presence shut out of her own skin. Cas had a guilty suspicion that Jimmy Novak had just been kicked out of his body.

“ Cas, talk to me, because throwing up glowing ectoplasm is NOT a normal thing!”

Cas became aware of how he had been filtering out Dean’s voice, something he had never done before. He felt…odd.

“I…. I believe Jimmy Novak may have just died,” Cas phrased slowly.

“So what, now that you’re permanently human, Jim gets his lease cut?” Dean inquired, his eyes squinting in confusion. 

“There was no binding contract to the rights of his body, Dean, I, I am almost certain that his body was not made to conceal two souls at once, especially not two…human souls.” Cas replied, flexing his fingers and testing the total sense of freedom he now held over his vessel…well his body now. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, swallowing the thick feeling that now encrusted the insides of his throat – strange. 

Dean stood off in the corner, throwing Cas a small look of contempt that he didn’t understand.

“Right, well if you’re done floating around like Linda Blair, I need to go check on Sam.”

“I don’t un-“ The door slammed shut as Dean tucked the knife into his pocket, leaving Cas alone.

Dean was still pissed.

Cas gathered himself, slowly rising off the ground, pulling himself to the bed before sinking in. Letting out a huge sigh, he turned over and settled on concentrating to a small sliver of light, leaking out from under the door. His body was still tense and rigid from just having someone else’s soul tenaciously cut away, leaving him truly alone inside. Cas’ thoughts bounced around inside his head, it was a weird sensation. To have full disclosure over your own thoughts, not having others listen in, making sure you were still following rank, not having a small voice offer their opinion on situations.

In all honesty, it made Cas afraid. He never made good decisions when he was an angel, let alone the free will that both plagued and gifted humanity 

Drawing the blankets back over him, Cas rake his hands over his face, slightly trembling 

_Father?_    Silence. 

Bitter resentment took over as his answer was once again ignored. His father had turned a blind eye to him as an angel, why would he listen to him human.

A pool of dampness crested his cheek, Cas’ hand flying to his eye, softly mesmerizing in the salty droplets of tears that fell. 

Cas couldn’t hold back the floodgate that he had aimlessly built up over the years, his soul a spark that unintentionally obliterated the carefully placed barrier around his mind. 

Gulping in air, his tears ran free, washing half his face in a guilt-ridden sob. He supposed that this was necessary, perhaps he needed to have everything overtake him. Always having control had presumptuously led to his downfall, time and time again. Maybe loosing the reigns, simply letting go would yield another result. Cas let his self anger, the burden of everything he’d done take him over and channeled it into his mindless sobs. 

Dean had always kept everything under wraps, but Cas wondered, how!? His sobs died down, mulling to a soft hiccup every now and then.

Cas hated this feeling.

His father’s teachings showed how tears could be lead to salvation, how they were symbolic of washing away all the pain and remorse you had, to offer yourself comfort. 

He didn’t believe this, not anymore. Crying held no peace or calming effect, it only allotted further to confuse him.

Drawing the blankets to him, Cas made a resolution. There was only one way that he would be able to continue, and that was Dean, it had always been Dean. Where lines were drawn and odds pushed against them, Dean held his stance. Cas wanted this strength, his pure will to abstain from all the other traps that continued to ensnare Cas.

He knew the biological make-up of every living creature in the world, how to piece together the assortment of electrons and elements to make life. He’d seen many wars and battles fought on Earth and in Heaven and Hell. But in all his existence, he’d never seen somebody, so devoid of life, live so fully. Dean’s will carried on so many people, his persona a gravity that no one took for granted.

Dean may think he was the reason for the deaths of many, but in essence, he’d made them strong enough to push past decisions that would’ve crippled men. Cas needed his strength or he would be lost, any semblance of the Cas that he once was would be gone, muddled and overtook by his rash decisions.

He needed Dean to forgive him, needed him to let him in again. Cas made up his mind. There was no solution to the continual streak of bad luck Cas had with decisions, but making amends with Dean was a start, one he intended on fulfilling. 

Cas fell asleep, mindlessly going over the ways that he could somehow get Dean to open up to the idea that he was sorry, that he wanted forgiveness and that yes he’d messed up royally.

His eyes shot open as an idea coasted through his mind, almost as if it had been procured out of thin air. 

The weird thing was, Cas hadn’t been thinking of anything close to this, this idea was fairly new to him but who was he to question a good idea, it was something. 

He laid back down, flitting through each scenario that could arise as result of his plan and he felt confident, if nothing else, Dean would be assuaged.

This was something. And Cas desperately clung to it, clung to it like a lifeline in the aftermath of a huge deluge, scared to be swept away from any last hope of redemption. 

...

The loft was basked in a low green light when Cas stepped out of Dean's bedroom. The ironwrought light fixtures were dimly lit, throwing shadows across the floor as Cas stepped up the marble staircase. He could see Sam, asleep in the adjacent room, face pallid with dark bruisings under his eyes, body sunken in from exhaustion and a result of the trials.

_I'm so sorry, Sam. But I will make things right. By you and Dean, I promise._

As quiet as possible, Cas stook a few cautious steps into the main room, shelves of books lined the edges of the room as the large table in the center was strewn with various articles and thick books that held no answers. Dean was passed out, arms crossed as his head was slightly pointed down - a position of Dean's that Cas knew as his "I'm only resting my eyes, Damn it, i'm not sleeping!"

Gently pulling, Cas took the key to the loft out of Dean's right pocket, placing Dean back in his original position before tilting his head to a more comfortable position. Dean shuffled slightly, pulling in a hurried breath before smacking his lips and placing his arms on top of the aged papers, laying his head down.  

Cas gave a small grin.  

Cas liked when Dean was asleep. All of the hardships that life had thrown at the pair of them were so easily wiped clean as sleep overtook them, the crinkles near their eyes seemed not so sharply defined. The hard lines that traced their foreheads weren't as pronounced. Dean's eyelids fluttered softly, his mouth opening to a soft 'o' as his breath evened out. 

Cas was always able to discern what Dean was dreaming about by sheer force of will, probing through his mind to catch a glimpse of Mary Winchester serving Dean pie or Dean's usual lakeview seat. His dreams weren't always so peaceful, Cas remembered happening upon one of Dean's memories from Hell, the terror and pain that Dean felt as he tore into the soft flesh of a dozen souls. Their screams penetrating Deans' ears, erupting into a single cacophonous wail that Dean had somehow worked past, torturing and cutting until he was certain they would stop, and then their bodies would flash back unscathed and Dean would have to start again; all the while muttering the mantra "I'm so sorry, please forgive me, I'm so so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" as each cut was placed. Cas would place other thoughts in midst of these dreams, willing Dean to turn his mind to something more settling. It had worked a few times, as Dean was tossing and turning Cas would swoop in, laying a hint of a thought and Dean's mind would catch onto it, morphing into a scene that had Dean's mind screaming with relief. Other times Dean's pain would push past even the most persuasive of Cas' influence and Cas would have to ride out the experience with Dean, watching him cut and slice, not wanting to leave Dean alone, even in his own hell. Always there, always for Dean, always.  

However, now Cas was no longer able to see into Dean's mind, he felt cut off even though it was never his place to even feel at home in this man's head. Cas could only tell by his bodily responses whether Dean was dreaming soundlessly or not. Based upon his breathing and his REM, Cas surmised that Dean was not having a nightmare, that much he was sure. 

Bidding Dean and Sam a silent farewell, Cas tucked the golden box into his trenchcoat, found his discarded shoes and softly treaded toward the door. Once there, Cas had to be quick, very very quick. The door was extremely noisy, a series of gears and locks held the door in place, half mechanical and half pseudoscience. Cas was positive that some alchemy and enchantments also secured the door but he was human now, so his thoughts didn't deter him. Placing a quick thrust to the door handle, the door creaked open, the gears soundlessly gliding against one another. Thank Father, for the little things.  

A rush of bitter wind snuck between the crack and threw some of the papers on the table off, but Dean was still sleeping so Cas pushed farther. The door was wide enough for him to slide through. Cas would rather chance his hand being crushed than to deal with a sleep-deprived Dean, which in his experience was a very scary thing to deal with. Holding the door took a bit more effort than he thought, and Cas wondered how exactly humans survived this long on such low stamina. 

The door swung outward quickly, giving Cas the boost to propel himself outside without being caught in the gears. A soft thud followed by a series of clanks and whirrings took place as the door locked itself up, a small shimmering of light traced some sigils etched into the door and Cas deemed it good enough to leave. 

Cas had debated whether taking both the loft key AND the Impala key was a good idea but he knew next to little on how to drive. Plus, coming back potentially empty handed and Impala-less seemed more like a suicide mission rather than a redeeming one. Cas ventured to walk the 30 something miles into the nearest gas station and hailing a ride to the closest town instead, perhaps the walk would allow Cas to go over his plan more thoroughly - as rash as it was.

This was starting to become a thing for Cas, bold decisions.

"Well, Cas, onward with 'boldness and without hindrance.'"

...

Cas had determined that walking was by far the worst punishment God could have placed on humanity. 

By his calculations, he had only come about 5 miles and already his body was tired, his feet felt leaden and his breathing was accelerated. Not to mention the excessive and - by Father, are humans that perspirant - embarrasing addition that plagued his armpits and forehead.  

The loft was far behind, hidden beyond an unmarked path that jutted and crossed a multitude of dirtroads before finally merging onto a unknown county road - it was absolutely maddening without his natural adeptness at sensing the cardinal directions. The sung had begun to rise, shining an immaculate pink and orange that crested through the dark patches of pine trees. Cas felt cold, burgeoning on hungry and was about to give up his endeavor when he sensed a low rumbling, accompanied by the yellow headlights of an old pick-up truck.  

Cas wasn't too sure what the universal sign for "Stop, I need aid with your vehicular device" but his handwave seemed to work just fine - perhaps being human wasn't too hard.  

"Hello, sir, I was wondering if it would be too much of a burden to ask safe passage to the nearest fueling station or town?"

"Well I dunno about 'safe passage' but I'll git ya where ya need to be." 

"Thank you, sir. Your generosity is muchly appreciated."

"Shore thing, fella. You talk funny."

"I wasn't aware my cadence was amusing."

"I dunno much about nothing, but ya keep yer funny business ter yourself and we'll get along just fine, friend."

Cas took his earlier thought back, where along the lines did he offer jocularity and then an amusing proposition, human conversation was a subject he desperately needed to brush up on. 

Cas crawled into the rusted pick-up that reeked of chewing tobacco and way too many artifical air fresheners that were supposed to give one the hint of fresh trees. Cas wondered why you needed a scent that could so easily be procured by simply opening the cab's windows - but who was he to judge.  

"Thank you, sir."

"N' problem."

Much of the trip was spent in silence and Cas deeply grateful for this friendly passerby's intuition to avoid conversation - as if he knew Cas was neither profficient nor comprehensive of what to say. The drove for another few minutes before the dingy outline of a gas station flew into view, hidden by the wide curves and clustered trees. 

The middle-aged man pulled into the dilapidated parking lot, placing the truck into park. 

"I'm sorry, sir I have nothing to give you other than my abiding gratitude."

"Nuh don't get your fancy coat into a bunch, I'm doing this uh my own account."

"Thank you again, sir"

"Please, just call me Bradley."

Cas paused for a moment, the exchanging of names usually accomodated the beginning of relationships, not the end. Still, it seemed rude not to offer his in response. 

"Thank you Bradley. I'm Castiel."

"Like the angel?"

A soft pang hit his chest, but Cas wasn't sure that there was another soul that was trying to free itself. This pain felt hollow, almost ache-like and it registered deep in his heart. 

"Not anymore, si- Bradley."

"Hmph, well what's in a name anyways, names change, just ask my second wife."

"What would I call myself, I've only ever had one name?"

"Well, shoot, I dunno, don't you have a nickname? or a surname?"

"Just Cas"

"Cas...Cas sounds mightier fine than Castiel. You lose all the swirly bits at the end but it's still the same."

"My friends call me Cas, but I've always thought of it as silly, however now, I'm beginning to miss it."

Bradley, felt around his pocket for a moment before drawing out a silver tin that held a few business cards. Pullings a pen tucked into the visor, Bradley began to scribble a quick note before handing it over to Cas. 

"What's this?"

"It's my business card, I own a small shop up near the end of town, look me up when you get the chance. Maybe we'll go get lunch sometime and I'll get to know this Cas."

The card was simple, a cream colored cardstock that bore the name "Emmerson & Company - Auto Repair and Towing Corp."

Cas took the card, trepidly pinching the ends of the card as he read the information twice, memorizing the soft lilt of the '&' and the gentle green of the font. Pushing it neatly into his breast pocket, buttoning the flap closed so as to protect it - as if someone would steal it. 

"Thank you, once again, Bradley. I hope we meet again in the near future."

"You too, son."

Pushing the heavy door open, Cas stepped out of the warm cab, waving at Bradley as he pulled onto the highway, the old truck whining down the road. Cas turned his attention to the small gas station/Qwik-E-Mart. There was no one here save the person manning the desk. Pushing the smudged glass door open, Cas made his way to the small section of camping supplies they had, pulling various objects off the shelves before making his way over to the counter. Just before reaching the blue tabletop, a microwaveable hamburger caught his eye, the shiny plastic sending a soft glint that brought his nose pressed to the glass. Freeing four of the mouth-watering delicacies from off the frozen food rack, Cas placed all his items on the counter, the teenager manning the register giving him an odd look before punching in the items. 

"All right that'll be 32.67." Pulling out one of the many fraudulent credit cards that Dean kept tucked into his wallet, Cas settled for the gold covered one before placing it on top of the counter. 

The young girl swiped it, placing his items in a big plastic bag before bidding him a good morning. He thanked her and wished her the same. 

_Now, to find a few herbs._

_..._

Cas had memorized every single botanical item ever created and it was an easy tasking appropriating all the necessary items he would need for the summoning ritual. 

An hour later, the sun was a quarter of the way into the sky, the heat of the day beginning to take a toll on Cas' body. His shirt was beginning to smell, odd. He'd hung around Sam and Dean long enough to know that he would need to obtain a shower and soon. 

Placing the last of the herbs into his makeshift bowl, Cas took the small hunting knife he'd grabbed from the loft and sliced a deep cut into his palm. Cas visibly startled at the sharp and rancid sting that followed his cut. 

"Well, that was new."

Shaking his head, Cas placed the warm blood that poured from his hands over the bowl, reciting the enochian mantra while drawing a backwards banishment sigil on the tree in front of him. Stating the last part of the mantra Cas quickly wrapped a few paper towels onto his hand before grabbing a match, lighting it against the rough bark and throwing it into the bowl. A bright flash of brilliant blue pierced the center of the bowl, a deep cracking from above followed by a low rumbling. 

_Come on, come on._

The sound of rushed air followed by flapping circled Cas before a hunkered man stood in front of Cas. 

"Metatron."

"My, my Cas, what brings this...surprising engagement."

"You can try and escape, but I've drawn enochian sigils on all the trees surrounding you." Pulling out the archangel blade, Cas took a few wary steps towards the last angel on Earth. 

"And why would I want to do that, it's quiet up there since you banished all those petulant wannabees. Besides, I want to see how the Angels, well Ex-Angel's most wanted is faring as a human."

"I'm not here to quarrel, Metatron. I'm here to ask you questions, questions to which you are going to answer me. You owe me that."

"And when did I become in your debt?"

"When you tricked me into shutting the gates of Heaven. When I heard every single one of my brothers and sisters scream out in pain and for help as they fell, burning the whole way. When I felt every single one of them and their grace ripped out as they swore to find me and kill me. You made me into your scapegoat and I'll be damned if I let you have the upperhand. But i'm not here for me."

"Oh?" Metatron's eyes flared at this, head tilted in curiosity.

"I'm here for, Sam."

"Oh, and how is our little God-faring warrior, dead by now I presume."

"No."

Metatron's head turned sharply, focusing in on Cas' face. 

"No?"

"He didn't fulfill the three trials. He never closed the gates." Metatron was visibly startled at this. 

"So you're saying that every single angel is not only human but that I am stuck here while the bloody gates of Hell are still open for business??"

"I'm sure you can infer what'll happen if you don't answer my questions. I leave you here, unprotected out in the open while I summon every demon from the highest order to the lowest poltergeist to come and have their way with you. Now you are going to answer me, and you're going to do it fast, because my patience has seemed to have dwindled since we last met, call it my humanity seeping in."

"What do you want to know?"

"Sam, as you know is dying. I need to know how to save him and I need to know every detail this time, leave nothing out."

"There is nothing you can do for him, the trials were meant to be completed, not to be dropped at the last second. He'll be dead before you can make your round trip home."

Cas stepped forward, deliberately slow, taking his hidden arcangel blade out and placing in at Metatron's collar bone. 

"You start giving me answers or I start persuading."

"You don't really belie-" The blade swung forward in a swift arc, sending a deep cut from Metatron's neck to his ear, a dark crimson leaking over his shirt. 

"Ow-Jesus! All right, all right. The trials weren't meant to be survived, they were built with the sole purpose of a good sacrifice, a small loss for the betterment of the greater good." 

"You're still not answering anything."

"I'm getting there, geez, you humans are impatient sancti-" Cas flicked the blade forward, nicking Metatron just below his left eye. 

"Okay, okay. The trials aren't geared for only one person to complete, the gates of Hell can be opened and re-opened so as long as there are enough willing people to jump the gun everytime the fiery pit opens its' doors."

"So you're sayin-"

"I'm saying, that acts of valor of bravery are what close the gates - self sacrifice. And to reverse the gates..." 

"You'd have to be selfish, sacrifice someone else."

"Or give into temptation, letting yourself be satiated by the very thirst that Hell thrives on - sin."

"So what does Sam have to do?" Metatron smiled lavisciously, almost feral-like.

"He'd have to complete three acts of sacrifice, but by giving into his most primal and basic sin - blood."

Cas wasn't too inclined to this answer. He'd seen how Sam acted without a soul and that hadn't come close to his bloodthirst that came hand in hand with his psychic prowess. This would save his life but condemn his soul - Cas wouldn't allow this. 

"There has to be some other way, a loop hole. Anything."

"Well, there is one other option, although I favor the sacrificial prospect of the first compared to this."

"What is it."

"As I said, before, there are a multitude of ways to close and reverse the trials although, they get pretty hairy. Sam would have to relinquish his victories, pass them on as a right of passage if you will. Someone would have to take them up for him, someone of his bloodline, a father, a mother..."

"Or a brother." The words fell heavy on his heart, Cas couldn't find his next breath. 

"Precisely, as I said, pick option one, keep your little estranged family together. Go home, Cas."

"No! I came here for answers and you're not telling me everything!"

"I've given you everything you wanted, It's not my fault if you don't want to he-" Cas gripped the blade hard, raising it high above his head before he brought it down with a hard resolution. The blade sunk in deep, just below Metatron's heart, Metatron took a hard breathe before he fell inward - then he started to laugh. 

"What's going on?!" Cas inquired. 

"You don't actually expect me to have left dozens of blades that could potentially kill me on an Earth just recently populated by a bunch of vengeful ex-angels - who are by the way pissed as hell at you." Metatron grasped the end of the blade, pulling it out with a sickening squelch and tossed it at the nearest tree, hitting his mark dead - on. 

"Think it over, Cas. Make the right decision, let Sam and Dean go. They've only dragged you down til you've become nothing more than the shell of what you used to be. How my heart bleeds for you, join me. Join me and rise against this new world with me as your leader. I'm letting you go out of the munificence that is my new kingdom. I shall become your new God, where you failed, I shall flourish. You have one week to decide."

With a flash of light and ruffle of unseen feathers, Metatron was gone. Cas glanced at the faux-Arcangel blade and saw that it cut swiftly through one of the most important sigils that had kept Metatron in place. Where Cas had planned three steps, Metatron was a full ten steps ahead.

Gathering up his small assortment of items, Cas pulled the forgotten burgers out and decided to eat in a park bench he'd seen a mile or two down the road.  

Once he'd gotten to the bench, Cas hurriedly unwrapped the small bundles of nourishment that were his only ounce of triumph. Promptly, finishing the last of four burgers, Cas contemplated everything he'd just learned. 

One: Sam or Dean was going to have to die, if not both. 

Two: Cas was now the target of hundreds of fallen angels as well as the last angel on Earth.

Three: No one told him that frozen hamburgers required a microwave. He had assumed they were cooked. 

Tired, dehydrated, scared for Dean and Sam and probably food-poisoned, Cas made his way towards the Gas station. 

Once Cas had arrived at the run-down excuse for a fuel station, he stepped inside and purchased a liter of water - gulped down voraciously before he settled on buying another - as well as a phone card. 

Cas made his way to the dirty blue and silver box that was labelled pay phone and punched in Dean's emergency numbers, growing impatient until the the fourth phone was answered. 

A groggy, "Dean, here..."

Cas hesitated. What was he supposed to say. Before making up his mind on a simple, "Hey Dean, I stepped out for a minute and ended up in a gas station, Oops" he heard a loud shuffle as a door was being opened and Dean huffed out. 

A low, "Damn, it!" before Dean refocused his attention on the phone once again. 

"Look, I'm sorry, whatever problem you're having, I can patch you over to Garth, he's more than able t"

"Dean."

"Cas?! What are you doing calling me, and where the hell are you?"

"I'm sorry. I need a ride, I went to stretch my legs and ended up a few miles down the road. Can you come get me?"

"Damn it, Cas, why were you out? And you better have the loft key or else your ass is walking the rest of the way here."

"I have it. Just please, come get me."

Dean gives a loud sigh, "all right where are you?"

"At a run-down Gas-station about 30 minutes from the loft"

"Which direction?"

"I believe...south?"

Dean doesn't even say goodbye, he simply hangs up, leaving Cas to do nothing but wait. However, it doesn't take long. The two hours that it took Cas to cover by foot is pummeled by Dean's 5 minute trip to the highway and 10 minute speedway down the road towards the store. 

Dean simply pulls to an abrupt halt and glares at Cas to get in.

Cas obeys, only meeting Dean's eyes when he doesn't pull out. Cas stares back for a while before Dean get's his usual uncomfortable squint out and turns away, putting the Impala into drive. 

They remain in silence, only when they get to the loft does Dean address Cas once again. 

"Okay, Cas, I know you're new to this whole - human thing, but I'm going to be frank. Sneak out in the middle of the night with the loft key and I'm going to kick your lily white ass, kapeesh? Also, why the hell are you bleeding?"

"I fell, and there was a sharp stone."

"A sharp stone?"

"Yes."

Dean met Cas' eyes for a few minutes, Cas desperately trying to hide any semblance of the conversation with Metatron beneath his full blown blue eyes. Dean was the first one to break and stepped out of the Impala, throwing Cas' door open before digging in his pockets, pulling the familiar golden box out. Cas followed as Dean unlocked the door. Cas was about to make a beeline towards Dean's room when a heavy arm stopped him.

Cas looked up at Dean, tilting his head in confusion before Dean simply dragged him towards the kitchen area. Taking Cas' hand in his own, Dean unwrapped the wad of bloodied paper towels from Cas' hand before grimacing. 

"Jesus, Cas.."

Taking a wash cloth hanging above the sink, Dean rinsed it with hot water, gently placing it on Cas' dirt encrusted wound. Dean pushed softly, testing Cas' newfound pain tolerance before he established what that was. Nimbly working the dirt and grime from the cut, Dean gently held Cas' hand in his own, concentrating fiercely on his task. 

There was not enough warning for what human contact meant to Cas. Until now, Cas had only ever felt pressure, pain and solidarity, never warmth, pure electricity that coursed from Dean's fingertips into his shaking hands. 

Dean's hands were warm, rough and inviting all at once. Cas felt enraptured in the bliss of it before he realized why he was being touched. 

"Ouch!" 

"Don't be such a baby, there!"

Cas retracted his hand as fast as he could, there were some human experiences he didn't care to involve himself with. Cas could see Dean reaching up to grab the medical kit, pullling out some bandages and a weird white liquid that he didn't trust at all.

Dean placed the white liquid onto a Q-Tip, taking a cautious look at Cas' hand before meeting his eyes. Dean gave no warning before jabbing the vicious burning liquid onto Cas' hands.

"OW!!!!"

Dean made no hesitation, gripping Cas' hand hard before folding a thick piece of square gauze onto his slender hand, holding it down with medical tape. When Cas had acclimated to the pain , he started to think of what he should tell Dean. He couldn't tell him everything. There was always this part of Dean that was sadly sadistic and he would take Sam's place in a heartbeat - Cas couldn't lose Dean. But he couldn't let Sam become this overrun blood binge drinking psychic who killed three innocent people or worse. But he had to say something, if anything, let him know he contacted Metatron. This was a start, he was done with lying. 

"Dean?"

His green-eyed hunter had made his way into the main hall, filtering through the books of lore that both of them knew held no real answers, only debatable what-ifs. 

"Dean." 

"Cas, I just picked your sorry ass up when I could've been searching for a way to help out Sam. So unless you've got some secret herb hidden underneath your newly stolen humanity, can it."

"Dean...I didn't go out for a walk, I." Cas sighed, deeply.

"I went to talk to Metatron."

"You, what?!"

"I..went to see if he could help with Sam, to check if this was reversable, if there was any way of saving him."

"Whoa, whoa wait. You went all on your own, without consulting me which is how you ended up in this big fucking mess in the first place to the guy who manipulated you into closing the pearly gates for advice. Now tell me, Cas, am I missing something or is that stupid, or is that super fucking stupid."

"I understand why you're angry, Dean but I did i-"

"Angry, doesn't even begin to cover how I feel about you Cas. Angry is when you spill the milk, when you accidentally lock the keys in the Impala. This is beyond angry, Cas. I'm literally 2 seconds away from kicking you out , high and dry if you do-"

"Dean, let him speak."Cas and Dean both turned towards the weak puppy dog voice that echoed softly from the doorway.

"Sam, I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you..." Dean glared at Cas, as if him being yelled at was the reason his dying brother was up, which he probably was - good one Cas. 

"Dean, I know you're trying to help, but please, shut up."

Dean visibly started but before he could retort, Sam held out a finger, stepping frail-like across the marble floor before sinking into the high wooden chairs.

"What did you find Cas?"

Dean turned to Cas before addressing a pile of papers that were apparently in desperate need of attention. Sam gave Cas a small smile, which Cas gave in return. 

 "Metatron believes that..." Oh, Cas, where to begin. 

"Metatron thinks there are only two ways to go about this." Cas couldn't continue, after a few moments of silence, Sam spoke up.

"It's okay, Cas, whatever it is, just tell us. It can't be worse than how I feel."

_If only you knew..._

"He believes that ... Sam has to sacrifice three innocent people to undo the trials that he's started - by awakening his psychic abilities." Wait for it. "Or for someone to take his place, and finish the trials, sacrificing himself for the greater good as Sam was meant to..." Wait for it. "This person can...can only be..." 

"Well?" Dean interjected impatiently.

Cas turned to Dean, placing him in Sam's place and as much as Sam's own pain caused Cas remorse, he couldn't bear it to be seen on Dean's face, his hunter.

"This person can only be a...a fallen angel...like myself."

"He's telling the truth."

All three men turned their eyes to the teenager at the base of the stairs. 

"Kevin?!"

Kevin bounced up the steps, placing the full angel tablet on the table. 

"And there's more." 

**Author's Note:**

> I"m writing this fic with the intent of uploading a new ch. every week most likely on friday or saturday! this is just the intro so there is more to come. Thanks :)


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